The Walking Dead
by BewareTheWalkers
Summary: What would happen if Daryl and Merle Dixon have a little sister? Well, meet Clary Dixon, their little sister. She's fifteen, with black hair and blue eyes. Find out what would happen in this season 3 remake, with Clary Dixon. Note: I don't own any characters except for Clary. Season 3 starts after the prologue. Rated T for cussing and gore.
1. Prologue

Yesterday, my best friend Carl found out that his dad is alive. Carl's about five months younger than me, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. The only problem was I found out my oldest brother, Merle Dixon, is handcuffed to a roof.

Merle and I aren't close, that's my other brother Daryl and I. To be honest, Merle's a bit of a jerk. Still, Merle's family. Daryl is on a hunt, trying to find food for the camp. Daryl, with dark brown hair, a wisp of a goatee, and green eyes, isn't close to Merle either. Still, we'd do anything for family.

Since we don't have anything else to do, Carl, Sophia, another girl at camp, and I are out playing in the woods. Carl nudges my arm. "You okay, Clary?"

"Yeah," I say, "I just hope Daryl gets back soon."

Before Carl says anything, Sophia screams. I look ahead of her and see a walker feeding on a dead deer. Carl yells for his dad, Rick, and his mom, Lori. Sophia yells for her mom, Carol.

"Merle!" I yell, out of habit, for he's normally at camp. Then, I remember he's handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta. So, I yell for the sheriff, Shane. "Shane!"

We turn around and run. I can hear the others running through the woods towards us. Shane puts his hands on my shoulders and sends me, along with Carl and Sophia, back to camp. I go sit inside Dale's R.V.

Dale's the kind of guy that everyone gets along with. He's in his early sixties, with gray hair and a bit of a beard. He keeps watch on top of the R.V. all day. After a minute or two, I hear the others come back. Daryl's voice rings out above the other voices. "Clary! Merle! Get your asses out here! I got squirrels!"

Shane tries to tell Daryl about what happened, and I'm still in the R.V. I hear yelling, from Rick, Shane, and Daryl. I glance out the door and see that Daryl's going after Rick with his knife. I run out of the R.V. "Daryl!"

He stops long enough to look at me. Shane knocks the knife out of his hand and puts my brother in a choke hold. "Hey!" I cry. "Choke holds are illegal!"

I kick Shane and he lets go of Daryl, surprised. Shane looks at me. "It's illegal to assault a police officer."

"Yeah, so are choke holds, jackass," Daryl says, scrambling to his feet.

We stand back to back. "That's my baby sister!" Daryl says.

"I ain't your 'baby sister!'" I say.

"Yeah, but your younger."

"Not important, big brother."

"Look, Daryl, Clary, your brother is a danger to us all," Rick says.

"It's my fault. I dropped the key," T-Dog says.

"Couldn't you just pick it up?" Daryl cries.

"I dropped it down a drain. But, when I ran, I stopped long enough to chain the door with a padlock. The staircase is narrow, no more than six walkers can fit in it at one time. And that ain't enough to break the chain or padlock."

"What's your point?"

"Merle is still up there, still alive."

"Yeah, I'm sure he is." Daryl drops his guard at that, and Shane takes a swing. Surprised, Daryl doesn't block it. I step in to block the blow, but I don't raise my guard in time. Shane's fist connects with my jaw and I fall back into my brother. That doesn't help the situation. Daryl sticks up for me, and if someone hurts me, they get it.

My brother gets up to fight Shane, but I lay my hand on his shoulder, telling him to stop. Daryl nods and sits back down next to me. He gingerly turns my head towards him and lightly touches my jaw, causing me to wince. "Sorry," my brother says.

Shane leans down next to me, and Daryl scoots closer to me. Shane gets the message and stands up. Daryl stands up and pulls me with him. "Are you okay?" Daryl asks.

"Yeah," I say, though I took my hair down from its ponytail so it covers the bruise that's already starting to form.

Daryl looks at Rick, his voice cracking. "Just tell me where he is, so I can go get 'em."

"He'll show you," Lori says.

Rick nods. "I'm going back."

Daryl walks off, and so does Rick. They meet back up ten minutes later, and decide to take T-Dog and Glenn with them. They leave, driving back into the city. My brother looks at me and nods before he closes the door to the truck.

Carl, Carol, and Sophia come over and make sure I'm okay. I assure them I am, and Carol seems to understand. That night, I sit with Carl and Lori at the campfire. Before I can stop him, Carl reaches up and pushes my hair away, revealing the long bruise covering my left cheek and jaw. I push my hair back in place as quickly as possible.

We sit around the campfire, finishing the fish that Amy and Andrea caught, when suddenly Amy screams. We turn to see a walker biting her arm. People start screaming and more walkers are coming. Lori and Carl take cover, and Shane pushes me down. He starts firing at the walkers. The camp is being overrun. More of our campers are being killed that the ones surviving.

Carol, Sophia, Lori, Carl and I stay next to Shane. He's making his way towards the R.V., just like everyone else. A walker Shane didn't see is almost on me. I scream, and see a knife handle protrude from the back of its skull. The walker drops to the ground, and I see Daryl behind it, looking as if he just threw a knife. "Daryl!" I cry.

The group's back. I've never been more happy to see my brother. They shoot walkers left and right, until they're all dead again. Daryl drops his crossbow and I run to him. He picks me up and spins around, while I bury my face in his neck. "Where's Merle?" I ask, once he sets me down.

Daryl pauses. "We couldn't find him, Clary."


	2. Seed

Rick opens the door and immediately shoots a walker. T-Dog stabs another. Carl, Daryl and I follow. We go through the house, making sure there aren't any walkers. Rick and Carl take the first floor, while T-Dog, Daryl and I take the second. I go first, my crossbow up, T-Dog follows me up the stairs, and my brother goes last. Daryl shoots an owl for dinner, but other than that we don't find anything.

We walk back downstairs and see Rick letting the others in. Glenn, Maggie, Lori, Carol, Beth, and Hershel walk in. Since the camp was overrun and over winter, we've both lost and gained. We lost Amy, Dale, Shane, Sophia, Jacqui, and so many others. When Carl was shot before winter, and while looking for a missing Sophia, Rick took him to Hershel's farm, where we met Hershel, Maggie, and Beth.

T-Dog looks out the window. "Walkers are coming."

We hurry out of the house, Daryl carrying the dead owl. He shoves it in a saddlebag on him motorcycle and climbs on. I climb on behind him, while the others climb into the other cars. We drive for a while, Daryl and I in the front, until we stop in the middle of the road. Carl, Beth and I take watch while the others discuss where to go next.

Rick agrees to letting us stop and rest for a little bit. I walk over to where Daryl and Rick are. "Y'all wanna do a little hunting while were stopping?" Daryl asks.

Rick and I nod. We follow him into the woods, but we don't see anything worth shooting. Daryl leads us on the train tracks. We stop and look at a prison courtyard filled with walkers. I look at Rick and can tell he's getting an idea. "This is the perfect spot for Lori to give birth," he says, for Lori's baby is due any day now.

We hurry back to the others and tell them. We drive there as fast as we can. We hold off walkers until Rick gets the fence cut open. We hurry through the walkway between the two fences, and stop a the main gates. A bus is turned over in front of the gate, but someone can still squeeze through. "It's perfect," Rick says, "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off walkers. We'll take the field by tonight."

"So how do we shut the gate?" Hershel asks.

"I'll do it," Glenn says. "You guys cover me."

"No. It's a suicide run," Maggie, Glenn's girlfriend, says.

"I'm the fastest."

"No, you, Maggie and Beth draw as many as you can over there," Rick says, pointing, "Pop 'em through the fence. Daryl, go back to the other tower. Take you sister with you. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot. Take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower." Rick points to the closest tower. "I'll run for the gate."

We take off, going to where we need to. Lori opens the gate for Rick, and he slips into the courtyard. I can see Rick making his way towards the gate as we start picking off walkers. One is almost on Rick when Daryl shoots it. Hershel, Carl, Rick, Lori and Carol use guns, while Daryl and I use our crossbows.

Carol shoots her rifle, but it misses it's target. The bullet hits the ground, narrowly missing our leader. Rick glances up at her. "Sorry," Carol calls, and reloads.

Rick makes it to the gate, and closes it. He runs into the third guard tower. "He made it," Carol says.

"Light it up!" Daryl yells. Soon, we've killed all the walkers in the courtyard. We climb down from the tower, and meet up with the others. We walk into the courtyard.

"Oh! We haven't had this much space since we left the farm!" Carol cries.

T-Dog laughs and lets out a happy whoop. I run and catch up with Carl. I take his hat, which used to be Rick's, and put it on my head. I run away, causing him to chase me. We laugh, and I somehow stay in front of him. I glance over my shoulder, and I don't see him behind me. I look back ahead, and he's standing right in front of me. I skid to a stop, but I still run into him.

We land on our backs next to each other, with the dark brown sheriff's hat above us. We sit up and reach for it, but Carl grabs it first. Instead of taking it, he puts it back on my head. "It looks better on you," he claims.

I take it off and put it on his head. "No, it looks better on you."

He tries to give it back to me, but I playfully slap his hand. "Don't argue with me. Who's the girl here?" I say, starting one of the pointless arguments we have all the time.

"You, but you're Daryl Dixon's little sister!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Carl Grimes?"

"It means that both of you are supposed to shut the hell up," Daryl jokingly says with a grin. I stick my leg out as he walks past, and he trips.

My brother stands up. "Oh, is that how you wanna play?"

I stand up and pull my hair into a quick ponytail. "Oh, that's how I wanna play, big brother."

"Well, then, bring it, baby sister," Daryl says, still grinning.

I duck a punch, and try to swipe his legs out from under him. We keep going like that, sometimes reversed, for another few minutes. Beth stands next to Carl, watching us. "Is this normal? And is it always this bad?" Beth asks, for we've landed a few blows on each other already.

"Oh, yeah. Totally normal. You should've seen 'em back at camp, it was worse. Oh man, you don't even wanna see how a fight turns out between Daryl and whoever messes with Clary," Carl answers.

Daryl kicks my legs out from under me, and I hit the ground. I look up at him, grinning. "All right, Daryl. I give up, you win this round."

Daryl holds his hand out for me to take and pull myself up. I take his hand, but I pull him to the ground, using the momentum to stand up. I put on foot on his ribs. "Like I said, big brother. You won round one."

"All right, I'll give you this one, baby sister. Clever trick you pulled. But not as clever as this—"

Daryl grabs my ankle and throws me to the ground. I land on my left shoulder, hard enough to dislocate it. In fact, I'm pretty sure it is dislocated. "Daryl, you win. You win," I say quickly.

A few years ago, Daryl and I decided that saying "you win" meant that either we needed the other's help with someone, or that we couldn't fight anymore. My brother kneels down next to me. "What is it?" he whispers.

"Shoulder," I say, holding the one I landed on. "I think it's dislocated."

Daryl cursed under his breath. Carol, hearing that I dislocated my shoulder, kneels next to me. "I know how to fix that."

"You do?" I ask looking up at her. She nods, and Carl starts to walk over.

"Clary? You okay?" Carl calls.

"Shut up, I'm fine! Just go away, Carl!" I snap, and instantly feel bad about it. If there's anyone in this messed up world that I love more than my brother, it's my friends.

Carl looks down and away, and walks away. I feel even worse. Carol goes around my other side and takes my left hand. "Okay, tell me when."

I grit my teeth and nod. She pulls as hard as she can, and I hear a pop. My shoulder still hurts, but I can move it now; it's back in place. "Thanks, Carol," I say.

"No problem," she says, and stands up. Daryl pulls me to my feet. Before I can grab my crossbow, my brother takes it, along with my backpack that I dropped. I glare at him. "I can carry it," he says.

"If you're really gonna do that, then at least let me have my crossbow," I say. He hands me the weapon. Someone builds a fire pit in the grass. When it's dark out, Daryl and I keep watch on top of the over-turned prison bus. Carol slides a bowl of owl meat on and starts to crawl up. Daryl reaches down to help her.

I nudge Daryl's arm. "I'm gonna go. I'm freezing."

He nods. I slide down the side that would be the top of the bus and walk over to the campfire. I sit down next to Carl. Before I can apologize for what I said earlier, he cuts me off. "Don't say you're sorry. I get it, you were in pain from your shoulder."

I look down, not saying anything. Hershel breaks the silence. "Bethy, sing 'The Parting Glass' for us."

"Nobody wants to hear," Beth says.

"Why not?" Glenn asks.

"Okay," she says, and glances down. She starts to sing. "Of all the money that e'er I've had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm that e'er I've done, alas, it was to none but me."

I recognize the song, and jump in at the second verse. "And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall. So fill to me the parting glass. Good night and joy be with you all."

Carl looks at me in surprise, since I never sing. Maggie starts to sing at the third verse, and Daryl and Carol come over. "Oh all the comrades that e'er I've had, are sorry for my going away. And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had, would wish me one more day to stay."

"But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not. I'll gently rise and I'll softly call; Good night and joy be with you all. Good night and joy be with you all."

"Beautiful," Hershel says, and looks at me. "Clary, how do you know 'The Parting Glass?'"

"My social studies teacher from seventh grade. She was from Ireland, and she sang it for us when we learned about it. I've always remembered it," I say.

Rick comes over and kneels between Carl and Lori. "We better turn in. We have a big day tomorrow. Look, I know we're all exhausted, but I wanna push our good luck just a little farther. By the looks of all the walkers, this place fell early. That means that the supplies might be intact. Food, medicine, shelter. Weapons. This place could be a gold mine if we rid it of walkers, we can stay here. We'll try tomorrow. For now, get some rest."

Daryl lays down behind me on his back. I lay back and use his stomach as a pillow. I study my brother; we both have scratches and bruises from our fight. I look up at the stars for a few minutes, and close my eyes. I'm so tired, I fall asleep instantly.

Someone shakes me awake. I open my eyes and see my brother. "Come on, little sister. Time to kill some walkers."

I nod, and get up. We walk over to Rick, who's going over the game plan. "Hershel, you open and close the gate after Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Daryl and I go in. Clary, Carl, Lori, Carol, and Beth, you stay out here and try to attract walkers. Pop 'em through the fence again. Clary and Carl, don't argue. I know you want to come, but I need you out here. Okay, everybody ready?"

We nod, and Hershel opens the gate. Rick goes in first, followed by T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl. They use their knives, seeing as we don't have much ammo left. We attract walkers, stabbing them through the fence. My knife is too short, so I use an arrow instead. Carl laughs at me when he sees me stabbing walkers with an arrow.

Rick, T-Dog, Maggie, Glenn and Daryl stay in a tight circle, stabbing walkers. The only time they break rank is when T-Dog grabs a riot shield. The dark skinned man butts walkers with it.

Lori moves over to Carol and I. "I can't see them. Can you see them?"

"Back there, by the door," I say. The others finish off some of the walkers, and stand in the open. We crowd at the fence, waiting to get in. We watch as they go into the prison. A few minutes later, Daryl comes out, telling us to come in.

We follow my brother inside, and Rick unlocks Cell Block C. "It's secure?" Lori asks.

"This cell block is," Rick answers.

"What about the rest of the prison?" Hershel inquires.

"Tomorrow, we'll do what we can."

"We sleep in the cells?" Beth asks. Rick nods.

"I ain't sleeping in no cage. I'll take the perch," Daryl says, walking to the second floor. I follow him up, and go into an empty cell. Beth follows me in.

"These cells give me the creeps," Beth says.

"They creep me out too. My brother definitely doesn't like the cells, he spent time in prison when he was a kid."

"Daryl was in prison?"

"Oh, no. I meant my other brother, Merle."

"Didn't know you had a second brother."

"Oh yeah, Merle's the oldest. He went missing in Atlanta, right before we left. We went to the CDC, nothing there. We were on the road for about a week after the CDC. Then, Sophia went missing and Carl was shot."

"I wonder what really happened to Otis at the high school."

"What do you mean?" I ask, and Beth sits down beside me.

"I don't believe what Shane said, about Otis sacrificing himself so Shane could come back with the meds. It's always made me wonder. I mean, what Shane said sounded true, but at the same time it really didn't."

"To be honest, I agree with what Dale said. Shane shot Otis so he could get away," I say. Carl appears in the doorway. "This place is so gross."

"Remember the storage units?" I ask, and Carl laughs. Beth gets up and leaves. I swing my legs onto the bed. "It's actually comfortable. Check it out."

Carl looks on the top bunk, and starts to take the backpack he's carrying off. Daryl stands in the doorway. "You find your cell yet, Carl?"

Carl freezes, then turns around. "Not yet. I was just making sure Clary was safe."

Daryl looks down at Carl. "I'm her big brother. I can do that."

Carl leaves, avoiding Daryl's green eyes. My brother chuckles, pleased with himself. He reaches for the top mattress. "I'm taking this. You mind?"

I shake my head, and he takes the mattress to the perch.

The next day, T-Dog, Rick, Glenn, Hershel, Daryl, and I stand around a table, looking at weapons that one of them found. Daryl picks up a helmet, and walker slime drips from it. "I ain't wearing this shit."

T-Dog picks up a glove with slime on it. "We could boil them."

"Ain't enough wood in the forest. No way," I say.

"Besides, we've made it this far without them," my brother says.

Hershel walks off with Carol, per her request. T-Dog puts on a bullet-proof vest, while Carl puts on a helmet that keeps falling off. Rick goes over to Carl. "You won't need that. I need you to stay put."

"You're kidding," Carl says, taking off the helmet. "Clary's going."

"Yes, I know. But we don't know what's in there. Something goes wrong you could be the last man standing. I need you to handle things here."

"Sure."

"Great. Let's go," Rick says, handing Carl one set of keys to the cell. Daryl has the other set. Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Hershel and I walk out of the cell block, with Carl closing the door behind us.

Rick and Daryl lead the way, flash lights in their hands. Glenn and Maggie bring up the rear, spray painting arrows to help us find out way back. We keep going, and Daryl and Rick round a corner. I hear the growling and know what it is before they even say. "Go back," Rick hisses. "There's walkers. Go back!"

Glenn and Maggie turn around and run. We follow them. Daryl catches up to me and grabs my hand, telling me to move faster. Somehow, Maggie and Glenn get separated from the rest of us. We crouch in a closet. "Where's Maggie and Glenn?" Rick asks.

"We have to go back," Hershel whispers.

"But where?" Daryl asks. We go out, Daryl and I leading. There aren't any walkers. Hershel quietly calls their names, and the sound echoes off the walls.

"Rick?" Glenn's voice, followed by Maggie's. "Dad?"

I don't know what happened next, it was so fast. Hershel wandered away, towards the sound of their voices. Then, he screamed. Rick, Daryl, T-Dog and I followed his scream. Rick fired his gun and the walker biting Hershel's right calf slumped against the wall.

Glenn and Maggie come around the corner. "No!" Glenn cried.

More walkers come around the third corner. "Maggie!" Hershel cries.

"Daddy!" Maggie says. Rick and Glenn hook their arms under Hershel's, and lift him. We can't go back the way we came, walkers are coming that way. We go the way Maggie and Glenn came, with T-Dog busting the handcuffs closing the door at the end of the hall. Daryl and I hold off walkers.

Glenn and Rick carry Hershel in the room, and lay him on the floor. Daryl, T-Dog and I hold the doors closed, and I notice the room looks like the cafeteria. T-Dog puts his rod-iron fire-place poker through the door handles, keeping it closed. Rick tells us to hold Hershel down. Daryl and I leave to hold down Hershel, while T-Dog holds the doors closed.

Rick uses his belt to tie Hershel's leg, cutting off blood. He takes out a hatchet. "There's only one way to save your life, Hershel. You ready?"

Hershel doesn't answer, only whimpers. Maggie holds hid head, while I hold his arm down. I swing my crossbow on my back since it keeps getting in my way. I look away, and Rick cuts off Hershel's leg. Hershel passes out halfway through, and Rick finishes. "He's bleeding out," Rick says.

I hear a rattling across the room. I let go of Hershel's arm and aim my crossbow. "Duck."

Daryl follows my gaze. Daryl says something that rhymes with what I said, and aims his crossbow. We get up and carefully walk over. He shines his light on five people. One with light skin, honey blonde hair, a mustache of the same color, and blue eyes looks directly at me. His mouth is wide. "Holy shit."


	3. Sick

Rick gets up and stands next to me. "Who the hell are you?" Daryl asks.

"Who the hell are you?" one of the prison survivors asks.

"He's bleeding out. We gotta go back," Rick says, turning his attention back to Hershel. "Glenn, come here. Put pressure on the knee. Push hard!"

"Why don't you come on out of there," I say.

"Slow and steady," my brother says. The five survivors walk out in single file.

"What happened to him?" the lead survivor asks, peering around Daryl's shoulder.

"He got bit."

"Bit?" The lead survivor reaches for his gun.

"Whoa whoa whoa," I say. Daryl and I aim our crossbows at him, and T-Dog cocks his pistol. "Easy now."

"Nobody needs to get hurt," Daryl says. The lead survivor, who looks a little Hispanic and has black, curly hair, points his gun at Daryl, then T-Dog, back at Daryl, and then to me. That probably isn't the smartest move to make if you know my brother.

Daryl's finger closes around the trigger. "Daryl, don't," I hiss.

He doesn't remove his finger, but doesn't fire the crossbow either. "He has his gun on you. You ain't getting shot, baby sister."

The lead survivor quickly points his gun away from me. He points it at my brother instead, realizing that Daryl is the larger threat. Rick tells Maggie to hold down on her father's knee, and Glenn walks forward, right into to the line of fire. "Hey, dumbass, get back," I say.

"Do you have medical supplies?" Glenn asks, ignoring me. He walks past the prisoners into the cafeteria.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" a survivor asks.

"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" asks the lead survivor.

"Don't look like no rescue team," says the honey blonde hair prisoner.

"If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't," Rick says. Glenn is making a racket in the kitchen, and walkers are banging on the doors. Hershel's breathing hard, and I know he's awake.

Glenn rolls a steel cart past us, and I hear Rick and him set Hershel on it. "C'mon, we gotta go," Rick says.

"Holy Jesus," one survivor exclaims, seeing Hershel's leg.

"T, the door," Rick grunts.

A short black prisoner looks at us with wide eyes. "Are you crazy? Don't open that!"

T-Dog opens it, and a single walker comes through. He quickly kills it. "Daryl! Clary! C'mon," Rick cries, pushing the cart.

Daryl and I follow him, with the leader's gun pointed at us. We run back through the halls, Daryl and I shooting walkers. I hear footsteps behind us. "Stop, stop," Rick whispers, hearing them too.

"Follow the flashlight." A prisoner's voice, the short black one.

"Come on," says the leader, "let's go."

I see them come around the corner, their leader in front. "Go go go go go," Rick whispers.

We start off again, Daryl pushing me behind him. We still aim our crossbows at the prisoners. We get back to Cell Block C, my brother unlocking the first cell door. "C'mon! Carl! It's Hershel! Unlock the door!" Rick grunts.

We come around the corner, Carol standing at the door. Carl hurries and opens it. We hurry through, and Carl locks it again. "Oh, my God," Carol says, tugging at her short hair.

"Daddy!" Beth cries. She starts forward, but I hold her back. She fights against me. "Beth, Beth. Easy, Beth. Just stand back for a little while. Hershel'll be fine. Don't worry."

She stops struggling, and the others take Hershel to an empty cell. "Get 'em on the bed," Rick says, completely calm.

Beth and I stand in the doorway. "He got bit," Daryl says.

"Oh my God he's gonna turn," Beth cries, pushing past me.

"Did you cut it off?" Lori asks.

"Yeah," Rick says.

"Maybe you got it off in time," Carol says. They lift him onto the bed. "Oh, oh, I need bandages."

"We used everything we have," says Glenn.

"Well, get more! Anything!"

"Carl, go get the towels from the back, right next to my bed," Lori says. "Take Clary with you."

We run off, but not before I hear Beth say what we're all thinking: "Is he gonna die?"

"No no no, no. No, he's gonna be okay," Lori assures her. "He's gonna be okay. He'll be okay."

Carl reaches the back, grabs an armful of towels, and sprints back to me. He dumps them in my arms and turns back for the rest of them. I run back to group, Carl right behind me. "Can you stabilize him?" Rick's asking.

"I need to keep him leg elevated," Carol says. "Get some pillows!"

"He's already bled through the sheets," Maggie says, and Beth runs off to get pillows.

"We can burn the wound to clot the blood. I-I can start a fire," Glenn says.

Carol glances up at Glenn, then back to Hershel. "No, the shock could kill him. It's not gonna stop the arteries from bleeding. We need to just keep it dressed and let it heal on its own."

Lori hands Carol towels, taking them from my arms. She takes the rest of the towels from me and the ones from Carl, sitting them on the chair behind her. Daryl goes over to the perch, reloading his crossbow. Carl and I go downstairs, and sit on the floor. We lean against the wall, and Carl reaches for a piece of cloth laying on the ground. "Look here," he says.

I look at him, and he reaches up, the cloth in one hand, holding my chin with the other. He carefully wipes Hershel's blood from my cheek, barely touching my face. After even I know the blood's gone, Carl still keeps his hand under my chin, his slender fingers lightly touching my cheek. He stares at me, his blue eyes concentrated. I decide that Hershel's blood must have splattered on me when Rick was cutting his leg off, just below his knee. That's when I hear the footsteps approaching.

I whip my crossbow off my back and roll onto my knee, aiming it at the door. Carl sees me do this and pulls out his gun. The leader appears out of the darkness–at the door–first. The others crowd around him. "Don't come any closer," Carl says, his voice steady, "That's far enough."

"We can't come any closer. Door locked, hello?" the leader says.

"Shut up, jackass," I say. The leader reaches for his gun, and Daryl comes down the stairs, his crossbow pointing at the leader.

"Today's your lucky day, fellas," Daryl says. "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go."

"What you got going on in there?" asks the leader.

"It ain't none of your concern."

"Don't be telling me what's my concern." The leader pulls his gun out, aiming it at my brother. I hold my hand out behind me, and Carl hands me his second handgun. With my crossbow in my left hand, I aim the gun at the leader.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, burro," I say. The leader looks at me, surprised, considering I just insulted him in his own language.

"Chill, vatos. Dude's leg is messed up," says one of the other survivors. The tallest one, who is also Hispanic, only less. If I had to guess, I'd say his parents were Hispanic and he grew up in the U.S. "Besides, we're free now. Why are even still in here?"

"Man's gotta point," my brother says.

"Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady," another survivor says, this one also black and clearly from somewhere in the South.

"A group of civilians, breaking into a prison they got no business being in, got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go," says the leader.

"Why don't you to find out?" Carl asks.

"Maybe we'll just be going now," says the prisoner with blonde hair.

"Hey, we ain't leaving," the leader says.

"You ain't coming in here either," T-Dog says, coming out of the cell where Hershel is.

The leader points his gun at the approaching T-Dog. "Hey, this is my house, my rules. I'll go where I damn well please."

"Why don't you just drop that gun, idiota," I say, and cock Carl's gun.

"What'd you just call me?"

"You heard me, burro."

"Oh, I know you ain't calling me that." The leader points his gun at me. Everyone starts arguing and yelling.

"I've already told you once, and I ain't gonna tell you again. Get your gun away from her, you son of a bitch!" Daryl yells.

"Hey hey hey! Relax!" Rick cries, running out to where we are. "There's no need for this."

"He has his gun on Clary," Daryl says, his index finger on the trigger of his crossbow.

"Yes, I know. Put your bow down," Rick says. Daryl doesn't listen to him. Rick waves his hand, telling the lead prison survivor to put his gun down, which is on our leader. Like my brother, he doesn't listen.

"How many of you are in there?" asks the leader.

"Too many for you to handle."

"Hell yeah!" Daryl says rather loudly. Rick glances at him.

The prisoner's leader follows our leader's glance. "You guys rob a bank or something?"

I almost laugh at that, but I don't when the leader continues. "Why don't you take him to a hospital?"

We're all silent, glancing at each other. Carl breaks the silence. "How long y'all been locked in that cafeteria?"

"Going on like ten months," their leader says. I glance down, then back up at the leader. Daryl and I've been with Rick's group for that long, since the apocalypse started.

"A riot broke out," says the tallest survivor. "Never seen anything like it."

"Attica on speed, man," says the blonde prisoner.

"Ever hear about dudes going cannibal, dying, coming back to life?" asks the short black prisoner, "Crazy."

"One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us sit tight, threw me this piece right here—" the leader gestures to the handgun "—said he'd be right back."

"Yeah, that was two hundred ninety-two days ago," says the tall prisoner.

"Looks like that guard needs to look on his definition of 'right back,'" I say. The blonde prisoner glances at me, and gives me a small grin that quickly disappears when Daryl looks at him.

The tall prisoner continues. "We kept thinking that the Army or the National Guard should be showing up any day now."

"There is no Army," says Rick, his voice gravely.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone."

"For real?" the blonde prisoner asks. He has a strong Gorigeia accent.

"Serious," says Rick.

"What about my moms?" the tall prisoner asks.

"My kids? And my old lady?" the prisoner from the South says. "Yo, you got a cell phone or something that we can call our families?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" Daryl asks.

"No phones, no computers," I say.

"As far as we can see, at least half the population has been wiped out," Carl says. I carefully get to my feet, and Carl follows my example. The leader points his gun away from Rick to me.

"Easy," I say, "I'm just standing up. Concrete's hard."

The leader nods, understanding, and goes back to pointing his gun at Rick. "Probably more," Carl says.

Shock registers on all of their faces. "Ain't no way," says the leader.

"See for yourself," T-Dog says. The leader lowers his gun, putting it in a pocket in his prison jumpsuit. We lead them to the caged in stairwell, and the southern survivor walks out first. Rick, Daryl, Carl, and I follow them.

"Man, this sun feels good," says the southern survivor. He ignores all the walker bodies, but the blonde prisoner doesn't.

"Good Lord," he says, "They're all dead."

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences," the leader says, also ignoring the walker bodies.

The short prisoner looks at Daryl and I. "You never said, how'd you get in this prison in the first place?"

"You never told us your names," I say. "And you know two of ours."

"Good point. I'll tell you mine if you tell us how you got in."

"Cut a hole in that fence over by that guard tower," Daryl says, pointing to the tower where we shot walkers from.

"Andrew," says the short prisoner.

"Clary, but y'all already know that."

"True."

"Daryl," my brother says. "Don't mess with her, or I'll stomp your ass."

My brother walks away, towards the leader. Andrew stands next to me. "He your big brother?"

"How'd ya guess?" I says sarcastically. We catch up with Daryl.

"So, it's that easy, huh?" Andrew asks.

"Where there's a will, there's a way," Daryl says.

"Easy for you to say."

The tall prisoner pokes at a dead walker with a stick. "So what is this, like a disease?"

"Yeah," Carl says, "and we're all infected."

The blonde prisoner looks at him. "What do ya mean infected? Like AIDS or something?"

"Let me give you an example, uh what's your name?" I say.

"Axel."

"Let me give you an example, Axel. If was to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest—"

"—You'd come back as one of these things," Daryl finishes.

The blonde survivor, Axel, looks at my brother and I. "It's creepy how you finish each other's sentences."

"Yeah, we know. But it's gonna happen to all of us when we die," Daryl says.

"Ain't no way these Robin Hood cats killed all of these freaks," says the leader.

"Must be fifty bodies out here," Andrew says.

"Where'd you come from?" the leader asks.

"Atlanta," Carl says, looking at the leader.

"Where ya headed?"

"At the moment, nowhere," Rick says.

I can sense the tension between the two leaders. Carl must sense it, too, because he takes a few steps so he's standing next to me. The leader points at a spot outside the fences. "Guess you could take that area down by the water right there. Should be comfortable."

"No, we were here first. This is our piece of dirt," I say.

Rick glances at me over his shoulder. I shrug. "Hey, it's true."

"We're using that field for crops," Rick says, turning back to the other man.

"We'll help you move your gear out," he offers.

"That won't be necessary," Rick says. "We took out these walkers. This prison is ours."

"Slow down, cowboy."

"You snatched the locks off our doors," Andrew says, going to stand next to his leader. Daryl moves closer to Rick, and Carl, T-Dog and I follow. We stand next to our leader, facing the threat.

"We'll give you new locks, if that's how you want it," Rick says.

"This is our prison. We were here first," their leader says. Axel, the southern survivor, and the tall prisoner, stand off to the side, watching the exchange.

"Locked in a broom closet?" Rick snorts. "We took it, set you free. It's ours. We spilled blood."

"We're moving back into our cell block," their leader says, referring to Cell Block C.

"You'll have to get your own, burro," I say. The leader seems to accept my nickname for him.

"It is my, idiota. I still got personal artifacts in there. That's about as mine as it gets," the leader says. My jaw drops, more out of anger than surprise. Carl knows me so well, he has his arm around my waist, holding me back before I even decide to try to kill the burro of a leader.

The prisoner's leader pulls out his gun, and Daryl holds his crossbow up. T-Dog cocks his gun, and Carl holds his out one handed. I swing my crossbow into place, but Carl keeps his arm around me. I relax, hoping he'll let go, but he keeps it around my waist. Maybe he just forgot it's there, but I don't. I can feel his breath on my right cheek, his chest pressed into my back. Axel steps in. "Whoa whoa whoa. Maybe—let's try to work this out so everybody wins."

"I don't see that happening," the burro says.

"Neither do I," Rick says, after a second's pause.

"I ain't going back in that cafeteria for one more minute."

"There are other cell blocks, Tomas," Axel says.

"You could leave," Daryl hisses, glancing at me. "Try your luck out on the road."

The tension in the air is even stronger now. Tomas and Rick stare at each other, leader versus leader. Tomas glances at all of us. "These five pussies can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block. And hell, two of them are twelve."

"I'm almost fifteen," Carl hisses. "Clary is fifteen."

"With what?" asks the tall prisoner, ignoring Carl and I.

"Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons," says Tomas. "Won't you, boss?"

"How stocked is that cafeteria?" Rick asks. "It must have plenty of food. Five guys lasting almost a year?"

"It sure don't look like anyone's be starving," Daryl says.

"There's only a little left," says Tomas.

I turn my head a little so I'm looking at Carl sideways. "Let me go," I softly whisper.

Carl glances down and realizes his arm is still around my waist. He slowly removes it so the prisoners don't think we're making a move.

"We'll take half," Rick says, and I quickly look back towards Tomas. Carl stays up against me, even though his arm is no longer around me.

"In exchange, we'll help clear out a cell block," Rick continues.

"Didn't you hear him?" Andrew says, as the others crowd behind Tomas. "There's only a little left."

"Bet you got more food than you got choices," Daryl says.

"You pay, we'll play," Carl says. "We'll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it."

Tomas is quiet for a moment, considering it. "All right."

"But let's be clear, if we see you out here, anywhere near our people, if I so much as even catch a whiff of your scent," Rick threatens. "_I will kill you."_

Tomas and Rick's faces are a few inches apart, locked in a heated staring contest. Tomas glances down, then back up at Rick. "Deal."

Tomas and the other prisoners lead us back to the cafeteria. We go in, and Tomas looks over his shoulder. "Pantry's back here."

T-Dog looks around. "You never tried to break outta here?"

The Southern prisoner, who introduced himself as Oscar on the way here, turns to look at us. "Yeah, we tried to take the doors off. But if you make one peep in here, those freaks will be lined up outside the doors, growling, trying to get in."

"What about the windows?" I ask standing next to T-Dog. I hold my crossbow in front of me, ready to use it if I need to.

"Windows got bars on 'em that He-Man couldn't get through."

"Bigger than a five by eight," Axel says, crossing his arms.

"You won't find me complaining," says the tall prisoner. "Doing fifteen. My left leg can barely fit on one of those bunks."

"Yeah, they don't call him Big Tiny for nothing," Oscar says.

"You done jerking each other off?" Tomas asks, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "Sick of waiting back here."

Tomas turns and walks away. I notice Rick's hand moves to the grip of his revolver, and he follows the prisoners. I fall in behind Daryl, with Carl next to me. We walk into the pantry, and it's almost fully stocked. My brother walks forward, shining his flashlight on some of the food.

"This is what you call a little bit of food?" Daryl asks, standing right in front of Tomas.

"Goes fast," he says.

"Mm-hmm." Daryl walks around the prisoner's leader, looking at the other food.

"You can have a bag of corn, some tuna fish—" Tomas says, but before he can continue he's cut off by Carl.

"We said half. That the deal," Carl says, standing right next to me, so close I can feel the heat coming from him in the chilly prison air. We take some food, carrying it back to our cell block. "Food's here," T-Dog calls.

Glenn appears at the first door with the keys. Carl gave him his set before we left. He unlocks it, all of us carrying food into the lounge room. I wouldn't really call it that, but it has that sort of feeling. There's lots of tables, and a guard station. We sit food on the tables. "What do you have?" Glenn asks.

"Canned corn, canned beef, canned cans," T-Dog says.

I follow him. "In other words, lots of canned stuff."

"There's a lot more where this came from."

We carry some of the food into the cells. "Any change?" Rick asks Lori.

"Bleeding is under control and there's no fever," she says. "But his breath is labored and his pulse is way down. And he hasn't opened his eyes yet."

Carl and I sit at the top of the steps, while Daryl sits at the perch, examining his crossbow. We watch the exchange going on below. "Take my cuffs," Rick says, turning around so Lori can take the handcuffs. "Put 'em in him. I'm not taking any chances."

Lori takes them, and hands them to Glenn. She follows Rick to one side of the room. "So what about those prisoners?"

Rick sighs. "We're gonna help them clear out their own cell block. Then they'll be there and we'll be here."

Seeing that we're back, Beth comes up the stairs. She sits down on a step below us, leaning against my knees. "Guess we can start stealing each other's breakfast again," she says.

Carl and I laugh. Back on the farm, we would joke and take each other's breakfast. Even though she's three years older than us, Carl and I get along with Beth well. Daryl gets up and walks around Carl, Beth and I down the stairs. He starts to walk out the door. "Hey, Daryl," I call.

My brother stops and looks over his shoulder at me. "Yeah?"

"You going to get more food?"

"Yeah. I'll only be gone a few minutes."

"Do you want any help carrying it?"

"Sure, why not?" Daryl says, and I walk down the stairs. We go get some more boxes of food, sitting some of it lounge room, the rest in the cells. We go to get more of the food, but Rick calls our names. "Daryl, Clary. We're gonna go clear the other cell block. You coming?"

"Yeah, we're coming," I say. We go to walk off with Rick, and Carl follows us. Daryl and I go out into the lounge, and see the prisoners there. We set various weapons on a table, but not any guns or knives. We set crowbars and baseball bats on the table. Rick comes out, with T-Dog instead of Carl. "Where's Carl?" I ask.

"He didn't want to come," Rick says, but I know he's lying. I heard the two talking; Carl wanted to come, but Rick wouldn't let him.

Tomas picks up a crowbar. "Why do I have to use this, when I can use—" he takes out his gun "—this."

"You don't fire guns, not unless your back's up against a wall," I say. Oscar holds an axe, Andrew holds a baseball bat, Axel a metal pipe, and Big Tiny holds a wrench.

"Yeah, noise attracts 'em," Daryl says. "Really riles 'em up."

"We'll go in two by two," Rick says, then remembers I'm there. "Except for Clary. She'll run point with Daryl and T. Tomas and I'll bring up the rear. They rest of y'all, pair up. Stay tight, don't break formation, no matter how close the walkers get. Anyone breaks rank, we'll all go down. Anyone runs off, they could get mistaken for a walker, end up with an axe to the head."

"And that's where you aim," Daryl says. "These things only go down with a headshot."

"You ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man," Tomas says, looking at Andrew.

"They ain't men. They're something else," T-Dog says.

"Just remember," I say. "Go for the brain."

We walk off, getting in formation. We walk through some of the prison, without seeing any walkers. Daryl rounds a corner first, shining his flashlight. "Man, it's too dark in here," Oscar says.

"Gotta hold it up high in front of you," I say, gesturing to his axe. "You're gonna hear 'em before you see 'em."

I can hear a faint rattling, a walker. "It's coming," Axel says, loudly.

"Shh," Rick hisses. Daryl holds up his hand, telling us to stop. We do, and three walkers come around the corner. Daryl holds up his fingers, counting to three. He never gets to it, because the prisoners charge the walkers, yelling.

They hack away at the walkers, but they don't kill them. They stab their stomachs and hearts, but they still don't kill them. You have to get them in the brain, that's the only way you can kill them. They yell insults at the walkers, and I raise my eyebrows. Daryl, Rick, T-Dog and I stand side by side, staring at the prisoners. "Hey, dumbasses," I say.

They stop and stare at me. "Let the walkers go," I continue. "I'll show y'all how it's done."

They do as I say, and stand against the wall, watching me. I shoot a walker that was getting up, and start forward. I take out a knife, and stab the second walker. Without turning around, I take out my longer knife and stab the last walker. I turn around, and pull the knife from its eye socket. I stand in front of the prisoners, and their eyes are wide. "Let's go," I say.

Daryl and T-Dog come up to meet me, since we're leading. Daryl rounds another corner, shining his flashlight. A walker comes through the doorway. "It's gotta be the brain," my brother says, his crossbow up.

Daryl shoots the crossbow, and the arrow pierces a walker's forehead. The rest of the group follows T-Dog, Daryl and I. "Not the stomach, not the heart. The brain," I say, and shoot another walker.

"I hear you. The brain," Axel says. Another walker comes around the other corner, and Oscar quickly puts his axe in its head. Oscar pulls the axe out and backs up. "Like that?"

"Uh-huh," I say. Another walker comes, and Axel drives his metal pipe through its eye socket. He gets back in formation and a third walker comes through the doorframe. Rick buries his knife in its forehead, and backs up. "Stay in tight formation," he says as more walkers come through the doorway.

"No more prison riot crap," I say. We start stabbing, or in Andrew's case, bashing, the walkers. Suddenly, Big Tiny screams. Two walkers are on him. Rick stabs one, and Tomas fires three shots, hitting the second walker. Rick glares at Tomas, who shrugs. Big Tiny wipes his shoulder, and his hand comes away bloody.

Rick checks out Big Tiny's shoulder; it's a long scratch. Big Tiny turns around. "I'm telling you, I don't feel anything. It's just a scratch."

"I'm sorry, man," Rick says.

"I can keep fighting!"

"You cut that old guy's leg off to save his life," Andrew says.

"Do you see where that bite is?" I say. "It's on his shoulder. Big Tiny, I'm sorry, but we can't do anything."

"Guys! I'm fine!" Big Tiny cries. "Just– I'm fine. Look at me, I'm not turning into one of those things."

"Look, man, there has to be something we can do," Oscar says. "We could just lock him up."

"Quarantine him," Axel suggests.

"We gotta do something. Why you just standing there?" says Andrew. "We gotta save him!"

"There's nothing we can do," Rick solemnly says.

"You son of a bitch," Andrew says.

"I'm all ri—" Big Tiny starts to say, and Daryl understands before anyone else. He steps in to block my view, and Tomas kills Big Tiny. He holds my shoulders, keeping me in place, but I don't want to watch. I had liked Big Tiny, he had been nice to everyone, even though I hadn't known him for ten hours. But then again, if you're nice, then there's a chance you're weak. And the weak get killed.

Daryl lets go of me, and turns around. Tomas face and white tank top is splattered with Big Tiny's blood. His dark eyes have a murderous glare to them. I try not to look at the bloody stump that used to be Big Tiny's head.

We switch places; T-Dog and Oscar take point, Axel and Andrew follows them, then Tomas, and Daryl, Rick and I bring up the rear. "You see the look on his face?" Daryl quietly asks. "He makes one move, just give me a signal."

Rick nods, and T-Dog opens a door to the laundry room. There's another set of closed doors at the end of the room, with walkers banging on them. There aren't any walkers in the room, just the ones behind the closed doors. Rick throws his keys to the ground, and they land next to Tomas. Tomas takes one look at them, then looks at Rick. "I ain't opening that."

"Yes you are," Rick says quickly. "If you want this cell block, you're gonna open that door. Just the one, not both of them. 'Cause we need to control this."

Tomas sighs and picks up the keys. He unlocks the doors, and turns to us. "You guys ready?" He looks at me. "How 'bout you, Badass McGee?"

We nod. He goes to open the doors, and they stick. Tomas tugs at them. "I got this."

He tugs a third time, and both doors open. "I said one!" Rick yells.

"Shit happens!" Tomas yells right back. We start killing the walkers, with T-Dog butting some with his riot shield. Tomas swings his crowbar, killing a walker, but narrowly missing Rick. Our leader leans back, and straightens up, glaring at the prison leader.

Tomas looks at Rick, and back at a walker. He shoves it at Rick, and Rick falls on his back, the walker on top of him. He struggles with the walker, and I look at T-Dog. "T, mind the gap."

I hurry over to Rick. I drive my knife into the walker's skull and pull the walker off of him. Rick takes my outstretched hand, and I pull him up as the stream of walkers stops.

Rick faces Tomas. "It was coming at me, bro," the prison survivor says.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I get it," Rick says. His machete shifts in his hand. "Shit happens."

Rick and Tomas are silent, staring at each other. Rick pulls his arm back, the machete in his hand. "No!" Andrew cries.

Rick sinks the edge of his machete into Tomas's head. The prison leader drops to his knees and Rick pushes his dead body to the ground. Andrew yells a battle cry, and tries to attack Rick. He kicks the prisoner back, and he falls over a walker's body.

Andrew gets up and runs off. Daryl holds his crossbow, aimed at Oscar. I aim mine at Axel, and T-Dog holds his gun to Axel's head. "I got him," Rick says, and chases Andrew.

"Man, get down on your knees," Daryl says, and the two prisoners listen to him.

"Drop your weapons," I say harshly. The two prisoners listen to me. Axel looks at me with wide eyes.

"We don't have no affiliation to what just happened," Axel says. "Tell him, Oscar."

"Shut up," I say bitterly. Axel glances at me, half scared. A minute later, Rick comes back. He holds his gun to Oscar's head. "We didn't have nothing to do with that," the prisoner says.

"You didn't know?" Rick says. "You knew. Daryl, let's end this now."

Rick whips around and his gun is at Axel's head. "Sir, sir," Axel says, pleading, "you gotta listen to me, please! It was them that was bad! It wasn't us!"

"Oh, that's convenient. Now shut up," I say.

"You saw what he did to Tiny. He was my friend. Please, we ain't like that. I like my pharmaceuticals, but I'm no killer. Oscar here, he's a B and E, and he ain't no good at it either. We—"

"I said shut up!"

"We ain't the violent kind, they were! Please, I swear to God! I wanna live!"

"Man, she said shut up!" Daryl yells.

Rick turns around and his gun is back to Oscar. "What about you?"

"I ain't never pleaded for my life," he says. "And I ain't about to start now. So you do what you gotta do."

We take the prisoners to an empty cell block. Daryl unlocks the door, and Rick and T-Dog shove the prisoners in. Every cell door is open, and the dead bodies of walkers lay at each door. Their hands are zip tied behind their backs, and a single bullet hole is in each head. Dried blood pools around their heads. "Oh man," Oscar says.

"I knew these guys," says Axel. "They were good men."

I stare at the walker bodies, and realize some of them were never walkers. Daryl's familiar hand slides into mine. "Let's go," Rick says.

"So you're just gonna leave us in here?" Oscar asks. "Man, this is sick."

"We're locking down this cell block. From now on, this part of the prison is yours. Take it or leave it. That was the deal." Rick turns and walks out of the cell block. I stay next to Daryl, waiting for him.

My brother shifts on his feet. "You think this is sick? You don't wanna know what's outside. C'mon, Clary."

"Consider yourselves the lucky ones," Rick says, standing just outside the door. He walks away, and Daryl looks over his shoulder for Rick. "Sorry 'bout your friends, man."

Daryl follows me out of the cell block. We wait for T-Dog outside of the cell. "A word of advice," he says, "take those bodies outside and burn them."

T-Dog turns and follows us back to Cell Block C. Rick walks in first, over to where Hershel is. "Hershel stopped breathing," Carl says. "Mom saved him."

"It's true," Glenn says, looking at Rick. Our leader goes inside the cell, and I sit down, leaning against the wall where Carl and I where earlier. I pick up the cloth and a bloodied arrow. I start to clean it and feel someone stand next to me. Looking up, I see it's Carl.

"You mind if I sit?" Carl asks, and I shake my head. He sits down next to me and takes his hat off. He takes one look at me and chuckles.

"What?" I ask.

"You're covered in walker blood. Stay here, I'll be right back." Carl gets up and walks off. He comes back a minute later with a small towel and a bottle of water. Pouring a little of the water on the towel, he sits down again. He rubs the cool towel on my cheek, and I study him. "You know," I say, "I can do this myself."

Carl pauses and looks at me. "Yeah, I know."

"Then why are you going it?"

He ignores the question and goes back to rubbing the towel. "How many walkers did you kill?"

"A few."

"Like, a few as in one or two, or a few as in a lot?"

"Second one."

"Thought so."

"I had to teach the prisoners how to kill the walkers. Scared half of them."

"Five prisoners scared of a fifteen year old girl. That's new."

"I am a Dixon."

"That's true." He moves the towel to my other cheek.

"What happened here?" I ask.

"Hershel stopped breathing, and my mom saved him."

I notice Carol isn't in the cell block. "Where's Carol?"

"She needed Glenn's help with something. She's still outside."

I nod, and Carl finishes wiping the walker blood off of me. He sits next to me and I go back to cleaning my arrows and knives. "I miss my phone," I say.

"I miss my friends," Carl says.

"I didn't have many."

"Why not?"

"Dixon, remember?"

Carl looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

"I'm kidding. It wasn't because I'm a Dixon. I was always the odd one out, scary because I could use any weapon, or anything as a weapon. I was the one that had the scary big brother. The one with—" I stop, and look down.

"The one with the what?"

_The one with the scars. _I look up at him. "The one with the walker knowledge. Kids never believed me, same with the teachers. Teachers always said I'd be good for something. Who knew that something would be walker killing?"

Carl grins. "I knew. When you showed up at camp with your brothers, taking out walkers with just a knife and crossbow. I think I knew."

I put my weapons down next to me and look up at him. He smiles down at me, and I smile up at him. I think I feel something deeper than friendship beginning to form between us, and I think he feels it too.


End file.
